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Heartless

by Abhijay Gupta

My Heart,
All night I cried.
I cried all night.
For you.
Heartless.

Sometimes the haunting
Can get too much to bear
Like the silent whisperings of your woodsmoke hair.
When a moment’s memory of happiness
Slips through the gentle partings
Of curtains caught in a fleeting embrace of love
With the wind.

And I lie there
Still as the weeping of a dried summer leaf.
Heartless.

I am yours
I am yours to ravage and destroy
To cut to little pieces and destroy
Each piece with fingersnap precision
In between baking lovecakes
And scribbling lovesongs
And sipping red wine
In a quiet yellow kitchen
My blood gleaming and blotting
Along the weavings of your sunglow lace curtain.
I am yours to create and murder.
I am yours to embrace
To love, to hate and forget
I am yours to find
When I am lost again.

For now, I am guilty
Of scribbling lovesongs.
And staining the lace curtain
With fingersnap precision.
As guilty as the nightflower
Of kissing the moon.
Heartless.

But how could I bear to see
The pain you bear
Afraid of tears
You’d bear for me.
Even if I could bear to see
My own blood blotting and burning
The sunglow lace curtain
While I fade into infinity.
Heartless.

And so, my Heart,
All night I cried.
I cried for you.
I cried for me.
Heartless.

After all forgetting is only as selfish as loving.
Truly, we are all heartless.

There are questions and more
Uncertainties and afterthoughts
Scurrying across the forest floor.
Untraced voices in the hedges.
Blinking fireflies in the neon wild.

But perhaps in the twilight hours
In between the days of logic
And nights of grand revolutions and wine
One needs mysteries and swansongs
And uncertainties, questions and afterthoughts
To be able to look up to a starry nightsky
With tearfilled eyes.
Heartless.

And perhaps a heartless world
Has need for blinking fireflies too –
And faraway voices that sing softly
In its darkmist forests.

After all forgetting is only as selfish as loving.
After all we are all truly heartless.

Heartless.
Those who embrace love
And those who embrace without love.

Heartless.
The candlelit lips of a beautiful woman
In a strange surreal city.

Heartless
Thirsty eyes in the neon wilderness

Heartless
This reddest of my rushes

Heartless.
Old Paintings and dead poets
Cremated bodies twisted and smoking from their eye sockets.

Heartless
A blue billion breathing hatred
In saffron, in green and in red.

Heartless
The yawn of darkness
Between an obscure railway station
And an obscure railway station.

Heartless the books and words and wisdom of ages.
Heartless sunsets and silhouetted backpages.
Heartless the vertigo to be heartless.

Heartless
The withered faces
That fade from black through the windscreen.
Never to be seen
Or heard from again.

(There shall be no lovescribbles
Behind coffeestained paper napkins
To breathe life into their eyes
When they have faded into raindrops
In the rearview sky.)

So how could I bear to see
The pain you’d bear
Afraid of tears
You’d bear for me.
Even if I could bear to see
The yawns of darkness
And the withered faces
Between obscure railway stations
While I scribbled lovesongs on a tree.
Heartless.

I’d rather be the sky
And you the sea
Making love in the lucidity
Of silent abstraction.
Without helpless hopes and indecisions.
Alone. Together. Heartless.

And so, my Heart,
All night I cried.
I cried all night.
For the sky and the sea
For the sunsets and backpages
For books and words of ages.
For the paintings and the poet
Sentenced to cremation by desire.
For darknesses and withered faces.
For hatred and for loving.
For creation and for murder.
For the helpless yearning
To be falling like a falling leaf
That fades into black through the windscreen
never to be seen
Or heard from again.

I want no lovescribbles
Behind coffeestained paper napkins
To breathe life into my eyes
When I have faded into raindrops
In the rearview sky.

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